


Property Of Harry James Potter

by Selly87



Series: Punishments & Pleasure [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom Harry Potter, Dom/sub, Draco Malfoy is a Brat, Fingerfucking, M/M, POV First Person, POV Harry Potter, Punishment, Restraints, Rimming, Rule Breaking, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sassy Draco Malfoy, Sharpie Pen, Spanking, Sub Draco Malfoy, temporary tattoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 02:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selly87/pseuds/Selly87
Summary: “Fuck you, Potter, I’m not your property and you are not my boss!” he snaps.Oh, now you’re just asking for it, pet, aren’t you?





	Property Of Harry James Potter

**Author's Note:**

> What did you know, apparently it's entirely possible to write 4.5K words about the misuse of a Sharpie Pen...
> 
> I need to get my head out of smut world and write some serious fluff!

* * *

“Harry,” he calls softly from the doorway to my study, where he stands wearing absolutely nothing but his favourite well-worn leather collar. He is holding a self-inking quill and several sheets of parchment and just like the good pet that he is, he keeps his head lowered and waits for permission to enter.

“C’mere, my love,” I tell him and he walks into the room and rounds my desk. I turn my office chair to face him, take the quill and parchments from his hands and place them on my desk.

I’ve cleared a bit of space for him and brought over a wooden chair from the kitchen.

I permit him to look at me and smile warmly when his eyes meet mine. He reciprocates with a smile of his own and I take a moment to admire him. He looks beautiful, as always, and I tell him so.

His smile widens and he’s positively beaming when I rise to my feet and gently cup his cup his chin. I press a kiss to his lips and he hums contently.

My fingertips trail down the side of his neck, over his shoulder, down his arm and back up again. His breathing hitches a little as my fingertips caress his chest and tease his nipples.

I let my fingertips ghost over his stomach, circle around his abdomen and trail further down to his crotch. He looks at me with wide, pleading eyes and I can feel his cock twitch against the palm of my hand as my fingers tease the half-hard flesh.

“You like that, don’t you, pet?” I ask, making sure to keep my voice low, husky, and playful.

He swallows and nods.

“What was that now? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes,” he breathes and shudders.

“Yes, what?” I prompt.

“Yes, I like it, Harry,” he whispers and his eyelids flutter but don’t close fully. I graze my fingernails along the inside of his thighs and he lets out a low whimper and presses his lips together.

“That’s good because you can have a lot more of that if you complete this next task well,” I smile and watch his eyes darken.

I let a few moments pass to give him time for the promise to sink in, then I sit back down and pull him between my legs.  
  
He attempts to kneel but I stop him.

Instead, I make him stand facing away from me.

“Bend over my desk, pet, and spread your legs for me.”

He obeys instantly. He bends forward and as he prepares to rest his torso on my desk, I pull his hands behind his back and let them rest on his lower back. He spreads his legs and I smile.

“Good job, pet,” I praise him. “Now, pull those gorgeous arse cheeks of yours apart and show me your hole.”

He lets out a whimper, moves his hands and obediently exposes his most private part to me.

“Beautiful, so smooth, so tight, so perfect,” I whisper and trail a single finger from the top of his arse cheeks right down to his hole. I let my fingertip rest right atop his hole and feel it flutter gently beneath my barely-there touch. He spreads himself open a little further and I rub my finger over his hole.

He lets out a low moan and I smack his right arse cheek firmly.

“Shush, not a sound,” I tell him, then pull the top drawer of my desk open and reach inside to retrieve a small phial of sensation-heightening magical lube. I close my fingers around the phial to warm the clear liquid inside the palm of my hand and withdrawing my fingers, I swipe my tongue over his hole.

I can tell he wasn’t expecting that and it’s taking him every ounce of self-control to keep quiet.

I smirk and swipe my tongue over his hole again.

I feel it flutter beneath my touch and do it again.

He breathes faster and his legs tremble a little.

It’s been four weeks since I last allowed him an orgasm and I can tell he is desperate. I’ve teased him and edged him so many times, I think he’s close to breaking point.

_Well, pet, if you do well, you’ll get the reward I know you so desperately want. Don’t disappoint me._

I swipe my tongue over his hole again and he inhales sharply but doesn’t make a sound.

_Good pet._

“Tell me, my love, do you like it when I lick your hole?” I tease him as I uncork the phial of lube.

“Yes, Harry,” he pants breathlessly and I smile.

“You taste so good, pet, all clean and fresh. I may have to lick you some more, later. Would you like that, pet?”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, Harry, yes, please,” he whimpers.

I let a drop of lube fall onto my fingertip and rub over his hole. He mewls and I smack his right arse cheek again.

“What did I say?” I ask.

“No sound,” he tells me instantly.  
  
“Well then be good,” I say firmly and continue to rub my lube-coated fingertip over his hole.

The muscle flutters beneath my tender touch and I feel it loosen.

I let some of the lube drip down his crack and even though it’s warm he gasps.

_Smack._

His arse cheek reddens a little more and I smirk, then push my finger into his hole. I push in until the first knuckle and he’s good and doesn’t make a sound. I pull back, then thrust back inside, pushing in all the way this time.

“So tight,” I whisper and leaning forward, I kiss his buttock, then nip at the redden skin and finally bite. He makes a low humming noise and I know he’s trying to fight making other, louder noises. I bite a little harder, then suck and leave a mark.

I pull back and let my finger slide in and out of his hole. I enjoy the feeling of it loosening at my touch. I add a little more lube, then insert two fingers into him and feel the tight muscles of his hole flex around my fingers. I scissor him open, gently, slowly, taking my time to prepare him, and I know it’s torture for him to remain quiet but he’s trying hard to be good for me.

After a couple minutes, I withdraw my fingers and reaching back inside that top drawer I take out a bright red round-ended cone-shaped smooth silicone butt plug. I use a generous amount of lube to thoroughly coat it and then gently rest the tip against his hole, which flutters.

“Do you know what it is, pet?” I ask him.

“I’m not sure, Harry,” he whispers and I smile.

“Well, you’ll know in a minute,” I chuckle softly and rub the tip of the butt plug against his hole.

His breathing is a little ragged and I push just a little, allowing the tip to slip inside his loosened hole. He takes another ragged breath and I pull the plug out again. In addition to not having had an orgasm in four weeks, I’ve not allowed him to put anything up his hole, not even a single finger. It’s tight and needs a little more preparation, which I’m perfectly willing to give.

Over the course of the next five minutes, I very slowly work the butt plug inside him and he keeps perfectly quiet and perfectly still. I reward him by peppering his buttocks with several teasing kisses.

Eventually, the butt plug is all the way inside and the flared part rests snuggling against his hole, keeping the toy from disappearing completely.

“Stand up, my love, and turn around,” I tell him and he slowly straightens up and turns to face me.

His cock is presently flaccid but we’ll change that soon enough, of that I have no doubt. Whether I’ll also let him come, well, that’s a different story altogether.

I smile, stand up and make him perch on the edge of my desk before I kiss him softly, teasingly, slowly. I run my tongue over his lips, lapping at them several times before sliding my tongue inside his mouth to seek out his tongue. I wrap mine around it, tease it and stroke it for several minutes, then pull away.

“So far, you did really well,” I praise him.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Keep it up and I may just end your dry spell, my love. What do you think, would you like that?”

“Yes, Harry.”  
  
“Would you like me to fuck you later tonight?” I tease him a little more and his eyes widen and he breathes faster.  
  
“Yes, Harry.”

“Would you like to come tonight?”

Upon hearing that question, he moans.  
  
“ _Ngh_ , yes, Harry.” 

“Well then, you best be good. Now sit down on that chair,” I tell him and he eyes it warily but follows my instructions.

Sitting on a chair with that butt plug up his arse won’t be exactly all that comfortable but I’ve given him the perfect incentive not to disobey me.

Except, I’m feeling devious and I don’t intend to make it easy for him.

Once he has sat down, I place the parchment in front of him and hand him the self-inking quill. He takes it without hesitation and I smile and run my fingers through his hair, then step behind him and purposefully bending over him to reach for something, I press my erection into his back and he whimpers.  
  
“I’ve got a little task for you, pet,” I tell him and tapping my kinky notebook, I unlock it with a wandless wordless spell, then flick to a specific page on which I have outlined exactly what I will do to him tonight.

I don’t need to see his face to know that his eyes are bulging as he scans over the words. I know he likes what he’s reading.

“Be a good boy and copy those two pages onto your parchment. I want your best and most beautiful handwriting,” I tell him and watch as he splays his hand out over the parchment and flexes it.

“That should keep you sufficiently excited until I’m ready to play with you,” I whisper into his ear and he whimpers.

“However,” I add, “that’s all a little bit easy, isn’t it?” I pose a rhetoric question.

He knows better than to answer.

I smirk and with a soft chuckle, I draw my wand, swoosh it, and mumble an all too familiar incantation into his ear, “ _Vibro Initium_.”

He lets out a low groan and shuffles uncomfortably on his chair.

I holster my wand, step around the desk, and look at him.

“Go on,” I urge him with a smile and he gives me a look that tells me he’s torn between resisting the urge to hex me and making a mouthy remark.

His writing hand shakes a little and he shifts on the chair and bites his lip to keep that moan inside.

“Or don’t you want me to play with you later? If you don’t like what I’ve planned for you, we can just watch some TV, it’s fine with me. I can always wank later when you go to bed, my love,” I tease him mercilessly and he bares his teeth but doesn’t growl.

“Have fun, pet,” I smile and leave him to his task.

* * *

When I return some half an hour later, he has finished transcribing the first page but his handwriting towards the bottom of the parchment is a frightening state.

He’s hovering over the chair and the first thing I do is to place my hands heavily on his shoulders. It forces him to sit down and he lets out an anguished groan.

That butt plug has been gently vibrating inside of him since I left him and judging by the way he’s moving and how much precome has leaked from his cock, it’s stimulated his prostate quite a bit.

“Uncomfortable, are we, my love?” I ask and he gives me a reproachful look.

“No, Harry,” he says and I raise an eyebrow at him.

“You might want to reconsider that answer,” I tell him firmly and he groans, bites his lower lip, and looks positively murderous.

I smirk.

“A little, Harry,” he says and continues to pierce me with those stunning grey eyes of his.

“Just a little? Then why is your handwriting such a state?” I inquire, holding his gaze with ease.

He clenches his hand around the quill and it snaps in the middle. I simply summon a new one and hand it to him.

“I want you to rewrite that first page, it’s unacceptably messy. I might have a scrawl but that’s positively unreadable,” I move to leave the room again and he calls after me.

“Harry!”

I turn around. “Yes, pet?”

“You are kidding, aren’t you?” he asks and I detect a hint of hopefulness in his voice. I let him cling to it for about half a minute, then crush it without the least bit of hesitation and a perfectly straight face.

“Not at all, my love,” I smile and turn to leave him alone to complete his task.

“You can’t be serious!” he objects.

I face him, cross my arms over my chest and give him a rather long and hard stare, then I ask him a simple question.

“Did you or didn’t you burn my eggs this morning?”

He gapes.

“Well?” I prompt.

“You distracted me!” he grumbles and I raise an eyebrow at him. I give him a moment to consider what he just said to me and I can tell that he knows he’s in the wrong and heading towards dangerous waters.

Not that that’s ever stopped him before.

“Excuse me? Are you blaming _me_ for the fact that _you_ burnt my breakfast?”

“Yes!” he snaps with clear exasperation.

“I see,” I say and step back into the room. “I take it then that this task is so unbearable that you find yourself unable to complete it. Is that the case?”

He slowly rises to his feet and challengingly holds my gaze.

“I will finish the task but I won’t start from scratch,” he tells me quite firmly and I chuckle.  
  
“Oh? So, you’re making the rules now, are you?”

He doesn’t immediately answer me and I decide to give him a chance to see reason and sit down again. I subtly glance at the chair and I know he’s gotten the message.

Whether he’ll obey is another question altogether, obviously.

He’s in a bratty mood, I can tell.

“I’m not,” he says sensibly and sitting down he perches on the edge of the chair.

“Sit properly,” I reprimand him and he grudgingly obeys.

“Now will you rewrite that first page and copy the second page?” I ask and watch as he clenches his hand into a tight fist.  
  
“I don’t want to,” he says quietly and approaching him, I cup his chin and force him to look at me.

“You don’t want to what?”

“I don’t want to start over, Harry,” he says softly and I wonder whether he’s going to start begging me to cancel his punishment.

He’s tried before, I’ve yet to give in.

“I distinctly remember reminding you to write beautifully, that scrawl is illegible.”

“Like your handwriting is any better,” he gives me a healthy dose of sass and ordinarily I would ask him whether he needs a spanking but he likes that way too much.

It takes the threat of a cane to get him to stop and even that heavily depends on exactly how bratty he feels.

“You’re really not doing yourself any favours here,” I tell him quite earnestly. “Now, last chance, get on finishing that writing exercise and we can still do something fun, but if you push me any further, you’ll pay the prize. The choice is entirely yours,” I shrug, take the parchment from him, and unceremoniously rip it to shreds.

He lets out an anguished howl and as I calmly place an empty parchment in front of him, tears spring into his eyes. I move to step away.

He glares at me with such venom that I can’t help but smile.

_Do you have any idea how endearing you are when you are this angry for no reason at all, my love?_

He absolutely could be halfway through copying that first page already but he is so intent on having this out with me that he’s prolonging his own torture. I’ve repeatedly told him that but somehow the message just never sticks.

Well, it does, but he just enjoys pushing my buttons way too much, I think.

I shake my head. They’re not even two full pages. My handwriting is big and scrawny. It’s not that many words to copy.

“Are we done arguing and ready to finish our assignment?” I prompt and he defiantly puts his quill down and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I see,” I smile. “Feeling wronged, do we?”

“Fuck you, Potter, I’m not your property and you are not my boss!” he snaps.

_Oh, now you’re just asking for it, pet, aren’t you?_

Instead of bothering with a response, I grab both his wrists and pull him up and out of the room.

He fights me every step of the way, simply because he doesn’t know what’s coming, and I smack his arse firmly enough to draw a loud and wretched sob from the depths of his chest.

He rubs his throbbing arse cheek, which really doesn’t make it any better but I decide not to point that out to him.

Instead, I pick him up and throwing him over my shoulder, I ignore his very vocal protests and the fact that he’s pounding my arse with his fists.

I carry him to his bedroom, throw him onto the bed and with a lazy flick of my hand, the bed restraints curl around his wrists and ankles and tie him to the bed before he has the chance to scramble off it again.

“What the f—”

“Do. Not. Finish. That. Word!” I snap firmly and he falls quiet and looks at me with a quivering bottom lip.

I clamber onto the bed, reach between his spread legs, and remove the butt plug. He whimpers at the loss and I finger his loosened hole for a minute or two but don’t push my fingers inside, no matter how much he wriggles.  
  
“Be still,” I hiss and banish the butt plug into the bathroom adjacent to our playroom.

He stills and I summon an ordinary black Muggle Sharpie pen from my study.

I remove the cap.

He looks at it warily.

“ _Not_ my property, huh? I’m _not_ your boss, huh?” I ask with a devilish grin. “Are you _absolutely_ sure about that, my disobedient little brat?” I prompt and move closer, holding the Sharpie in my writing hand.

“What are you going to do?” he asks meekly.

_Not so arrogant now, huh, pet?_

“I’m going to give you a permanent reminder of exactly who owns your arse, my love.”

“Permanent?” he screeches and starts wriggling on the bed. I sit back on my haunches and wait for him to exhaust himself.

_There’s really no way to go. You do know that, my love, don’t you?_

When he’s still struggling after several minutes, I decide that I have enough and hit him with a wandless _Stunner_. He makes a strange gargled sound and lies perfectly still and spread-eagled on the bed, bound by his restraints and unable to make a single noise.

_Ah silence, what bliss._

I set to work and spend the next ten minutes covering several parts of his body with a little reminder whom he belongs to.

It’s _not_ permanent and absolutely will wash off in two days but he doesn’t need to know that just yet.

When I’m finished with his front, I flip him over with the help of the spell and making sure that he can breathe properly I continue covering the back of his body with the marker.

Once done, I sit back, admire my handiwork and chuckle.

I release him from the _Stunner_ , release him from the bonds and lead him into his bathroom. It has a floor-length mirror mounted to the door and I show him his newly acquired tattoos on his upper arms, chest, stomach, the inside of his thighs, back and both buttocks.

_Property of Harry James Potter._

I’ve written it nine times.

I mould myself against his back and wrapping my arms around his waist, I trace the “tattoo” on his chest and whisper the words into his ear.  
  
“Property of Harry James Potter.”

He shudders and I pinch his nipples, hard. He moans.

“Do you disagree, my love?”  
  
“No, Harry,” he whispers.  
  
“That’s a good boy. Whatever made you think that you’re not my property, huh? Whatever made you think that I’m not your boss?” I whisper and massage his buttocks with one hand while I pinch his nipple with the other.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I’m yours,” he whispers, still staring at himself in the mirror, watching as I touch him.

I sneak my fingers along his hip and edge them towards his cock, which twitches with excitement and I watch it slowly harden as I graze my fingernails repeatedly over his thigh, scratching over his “tattoo”.

“You’re mine, pet, don’t you forget that. I _own_ you. I own every inch of you. I own your _arse_. I own your _cock_. I own your _mouth_. I decide what you _wear_ , what you _say_ , what you _eat_ , what you _do_. I decide when you get to _come_ and how I’m going to _fuck_ you. I decide what I’m going to fill your tight little hole with or whether you get the pleasure of me shoving my dick in your mouth. Do you understand that, pet?”

“Yes, Harry,” he whispers shakily and I make him watch as I wrap my hand around his cock and stroke him to full hardness. Then I bring my hand up and tell him to spit in my palm. He does so and using his spit as lubricant I stroke his cock.

He groans and whimpers.

“I _own_ you, Draco Malfoy, you’re _my_ property,” I growl into his ear and stroke him harder.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Say it!”

“You own me, Harry. I’m your property.”

“Who owns you?”

“ _You_ , Harry.”

“I’m Harry James Potter’s property, say it!”

He whimpers and I stroke him harder still.

“I’m Harry James Potter’s property.”

“Look at you, you needy little thing, now you remember who your boss is, don’t you? Are you still going to give me sass, pet?”

“No, Harry.”  
  
“Say it again, what does it spell all over that pretty body of yours?” I ask and pinch his nipple hard enough to hurt.

He hisses and moans.

“I’m Harry James Potter’s property.”

“Again!” I bark and he trembles in my arms.

“I’m Harry James Potter’s property.”

“Do you have permission to come, pet?”  
  
“No, Harry,” he moans.

“Are you going to be a good pet?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Will you come without permission?”

“Never, Harry.”

“Are you sure?” I stroke him harder still, mercilessly letting my hand fly over his cock, bringing him right to the very edge and I know he’s fighting it, he’s fighting his orgasm so hard and with everything, he’s got.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Who owns you?”

“You, Harry, you, always you!” he sobs but doesn’t cry.

I pinch his nipple.

He groans and his hands clutch at my forearm in a bitter attempt to hold himself up as his legs shake uncontrollably.

I stop stroking his cock and he howls, which I ignore. Instead, I drag him over to the bathtub, sit down on the edge and force him over my knees.

My hand comes down hard on his backside and he screams.  
  
“What was that for?” I ask him.

“For backtalking,” he sobs.

I smack him again.

“And this?”

“For arguing,” he answers.

_Smack._

“This one?”

“For swearing.”

_Smack._

“This one is for lying and saying you weren’t uncomfortable sitting on a wooden chair with a vibrating butt plug up your arse for over half an hour,” I tell him and he sobs quietly.

I think the tears have started to fall.

_Smack._

“This one is for your terrible handwriting,” I tell him and gently rub his deep-red arse as he continues to whimper and sniffle.

I give him a moment, then pull him up and into my lap. His arms wrap themselves around me and he buries his face in my neck and cries softly.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he whispers and I smile and stroke his back lovingly.

“It’s all good, you’re forgiven, you just needed a little reminder, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Harry,” he nods against my neck and I pull a face at the wetness against my skin but don’t push him away. Never away.

I hug him tight and give him a moment to calm himself.

“My precious property,” I whisper with a smile.

He slowly pulls away and looks at me with his tear-stained face, red cheeks, and watery eyes.

“Is it really permanent?” he wants to know and I regard him for a full minute, then smirk.

“No, pet, it’ll come off in two days. But if you say it again, I’ll use a permanent marker, are we clear?”

He nods and I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Are we clear?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Well, good. Now be a good boy and clean yourself up, then come back to me.”

He nods and gingerly moving off my lap, he walks over to the sink and splashes his face with cold water, then washes it with warm water.

When he’s finished, he comes back to me and quietly kneels in front of me with his hands on his back and his head lowered. I pet his hair for a while and smile.

That black Sharpie looks perfect against his pale skin and the red of his spanked arse.

I tell him so and he jerks his head but doesn’t look up at me. I gently prompt him and he lifts his head and looks at me with his beautiful grey eyes.

“Would you like to cuddle on the sofa for a while?” I offer and he nods.

I smile and rise to my feet and hold my hand out to him.

“Well, come on then, my love.”

We make our way to the living room and he waits for me to sit on the sofa. He also waits until I tell him that he can join me, then quickly moves to lie in a foetal position with his head in my lap.

“I’m Harry James Potter’s property,” he mumbles with a silly grin and blinks up at me.

I chuckle softly and caress his cheek. “That you are, pet, that you are.”


End file.
